A new qualitative study based on in-depth interviews with 31 heterosexual men has found that many of them experience sex primarily as a source of anxiety, vigilance and shame, rather than pleasure. The researchers, led by Jossy Forrest, a PhD candidate at the University of Melbourne, say the findings hint at a generation navigating consent education and social scrutiny in a climate shaped by #MeToo, online dating and changing norms around intimacy.
The project, published in the Journal of Sex & Marital Therapy, draws on interviews with men who grew up amid heightened attention to sexual consent. It suggests that some respondents have internalised a broad cultural suspicion of men, approaching intimacy as a hazard to manage rather than a shared experience. The men described a persistent self-monitoring that blends a wish not to hurt a partner with a fear of social or legal ruin.
Affirmative consent policies, which emphasise active, ongoing agreement rather than the mere absence of a “no,” have become influential through legal reforms, university policies and public health campaigns. These programmes focus on teaching young men to ask permission, attend to their partners and verify willingness at every step, placing the burden on men to confirm consent.
In translating those formal standards into real-life encounters, the researchers note that young people often rely on body language and cues rather than explicit verbal checks. A 2013 college study found that unspoken signals frequently guide decisions about sex, while a 2016 review highlighted how alcohol, dating norms and expectations about male initiation complicate consent in practice. A 2022 study of teenage boys also indicated a disconnect between classroom consent lessons and real dating behaviour.
The researchers say their aim was to understand how this generation of young men absorbs consent messaging, navigates encounters in practice and whether that shapes their emotional experiences. Forrest and her colleagues emphasised that they did not set out to study broader influences such as online pornography or public discourse about toxic masculinity, but noted those factors heightened the stakes around sex.
“We wanted to know how that messaging had been absorbed, how young men navigate consent in practice, and whether it shapes their emotional experience of sex,” Forrest and her co-authors explained. “This generation has also lived through other changes that raised the stakes around sex: online pornography, app-based dating, #MeToo and the conversation about ‘toxic masculinity.’”
The researchers’ earlier analysis of the same interviews showed men trying to bridge formal consent rules with real encounters by stitching together cues such as trust, timing, setting and reciprocity. They found that the men were not careless about consent; they had absorbed consent education and sought to get it right.
For the current study, the team sought to understand what navigating consent that way felt like inside the individuals. They analysed 31 interviews conducted in person or by video call between September and November 2023, with sessions averaging 92 minutes and conducted in English (26) and Spanish (5). Participants were asked to reflect on encounters where consent was clear, where it was uncertain, or where one party did not consent, and to explain why, in their view, men sometimes proceed when unsure.
The interviews did not directly probe the men’s emotions or fears; those topics emerged spontaneously as participants reflected on dating life. The researchers identified three principal, overlapping patterns across the interviews. They describe the phenomenon as a constant, internal calculation that extended beyond formal consent rules.
“Almost all of them applied a test for consent, which we called ‘multi-factor authentication,’ that sometimes went beyond what affirmative consent requires,” the researchers noted. “One indicator was not enough. They usually needed several to line up: reciprocated and escalating physical cues, contextual signals, and in some cases verbal check-ins before, during and after sex. This paper asked what navigating consent that way felt like.”
Participants were drawn from the Blurred Lines Project at the University of Melbourne. Of the 35 men initially interviewed for the broader project, 31 identified as heterosexual and took part in the in-depth analysis; 24 lived in Australia while seven were based in the United States. Each participant received a $40 grocery voucher.
The researchers’ conversations with the men revealed a striking pattern: sex was rarely framed as fun or relaxed. Across the group, 29 of the 31 men described sexual encounters as spaces of high anxiety, fear and constant vigilance. One 28-year-old participant likened it to “defusing a bomb,” describing a tense situation in something that should be “enjoyable and open and free.”
A second major theme, described by 29 of the 31 respondents, centred on a deep moral concern about causing harm. The men stressed their desire to be decent and ethical partners and were acutely aware of how men are perceived in relation to sex. The study notes that this worry could morph into people-pleasing and self-erasure, with some prioritising a partner’s comfort over their own desires.
Some respondents spoke of relinquishing sexual agency to their partner. One admitted he did not know what he personally liked in bed because he focused on pleasing others, while another described handing over full control of sexual encounters. The authors say care for a partner could become a performance, rather than a shared experience of desire.
Asked about the overall impression of the interviews, the researchers said the findings challenged assumptions that young men are uniformly confident or entitled. “These were thoughtful and articulate about consent. They were also acutely anxious and often overwhelmed,” they observed. They quoted a participant who described men as feeling like “tick time bombs for sexual assault,” a sentiment that reflected a broader sense of cultural suspicion surrounding male sexuality.
A further point the authors emphasise is a fear of shame and personal ruin. Some 19 participants worried about formal accusations that could damage careers or result in prison, while 17 feared informal reputational damage within social circles. A majority—16 of the 31—also reported inward shame, expressing beliefs such as “I’m not a good person” or “I’m so bad.” A recurring theme was the lack of a safe space to discuss consent with male friends; admitting to uncertainty was described as risking accusations of predatory behaviour, creating a chilling effect on open discussion.
The researchers said the main takeaway was that mutual trust and genuine connection matter as much as consent itself. They stressed that their aim was understanding rather than sympathy or advocacy for a particular stance. “What they were looking for was connection with a partner, not perfection,” they wrote, and added: “This is not a plea for sympathy for young men.” The study’s overarching goal, they said, is to inform better prevention and healthier relationships.
The paper also notes several caveats. The findings come from a relatively small, non-representative group recruited mainly through one Australian university and all conducted in the context of Judeo-Christian households, which may limit broader applicability. Four of seven interview questions focused on uncertain or non-consensual encounters, potentially priming respondents to emphasise stressful memories. The interviews relied on a single set of responses, and partners’ views were not captured.
Commenting on the study, Gurit E. Birnbaum, a psychology professor not involved in the project, said the work “paints a rather gloomy picture” of young men’s sexual experiences, coloured more by anxiety and self-monitoring than pleasure. She cautioned against generalising from the small sample, while noting these patterns could be suggestive of wider trends worth exploring in future research.
The authors stress that their counts describe only the 31 men and should not be read as estimates of how common these experiences are among young men generally. They also point out that the interviews were conducted by a woman, which might have affected how candid some men were about vulnerability and shame.
Looking ahead, the researchers say they are now turning to how these same men understand and make sense of unwanted or ambivalent sexual experiences, a question they describe as almost never asked of men. They hope the findings encourage educators and therapists to move beyond a sole emphasis on avoiding harm to foster mutual desire, communication and enjoyment in sexual relationships.
“The findings suggest lines of inquiry for others to test,” Forrest and her colleagues concluded. “If readers take one thing from this study, let it be this: young men are worth listening to, and the way to find out what they think is to ask them.”
The study, “‘It’s Like You’re Trying to Defuse a Bomb’: Fear, Responsibility, and Shame in Young Men’s Sexual Lives,” was authored by Jossy Forrest, Jessie V. Ford and Jonathan Herring.
